


Sneak Trips

by NCISVU



Category: NCIS
Genre: Christmas, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:46:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NCISVU/pseuds/NCISVU
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's nine year old son is just as devious as Tony is and his heart is just as big.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sneak Trips

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tibbs Yuletide on livejournal. Be sure to check that community out for lots of fun Christmas Tibbsy goodness! Merry Christmas!!

A soft snow floated gracefully to the ground, adding to the already fallen snow and making Christmas Eve feel truly magical. Inside the modest home on East Hamilton Street in Alexandria, Virginia, a slew of inviting aromas mingled in the air. There was a nearly empty pot of Caribbean hazelnut coffee on the counter and, as a result, an overly caffeinated Italian bubbling with excitement as he pulled tray after tray of sugar cookies, shortbread cookies, gingerbread cookies and, his specialty, cinnamon bun pinwheel cookies out of the oven. At the small table in the eat-in kitchen sat a young boy, deep in thought as he decorated the already baked cookies.

Tony slid the last tray of pinwheel cookies, the cinnamon ones he made mainly for Jethro, into the oven and let himself breathe a quick sigh of relief before taking stock of the kitchen and cringing. There were mixing bowls, spoons and spatulas, bags of flour and sugar and an array of spices covering the counter on one side while the other was packed with fresh out of the oven cookies cooling. Tony wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, inadvertently leaving a swipe of flour behind, and glanced over at his son. The little boy had colorful frosting, sprinkles and powdered sugar all over his hands, his face, his Christmas pajamas and even in his hair.

“How’s it coming, Jack?” he asked. “We gotta wrap this up, dude. Santa’s gonna skip right over our house if there aren’t any cookies waiting on his plate by the fireplace and your little butt isn’t in bed.”

“I’m almost done,” the nine year old answered, concentrating hard on the gingerbread man he was creating, “but we didn’t put the reindeer food out yet.”

“Shi—oot,” Tony quickly corrected, spinning in a circle in the kitchen, glancing at the overcrowded countertops in search of the Ziploc bag of reindeer food his son had brought home from school the previous day.

“Where’s Uncle Jethro tonight, Daddy?”

“Uh, as far as I know he’s at home,” Tony answered distractedly, as he searched the boy’s backpack for the reindeer food.

“What’s he doing?”

“I don’t know, buddy.”

“Is he all alone?” Jack abandoned the cookie he’d been decorating and wandered over to where his father was dumping the contents of his backpack onto the floor.

“Your Uncle Jethro’s not big on holidays, Buddy,” Tony said.

“But nobody should spend Christmas alone.”

“We already talked about this, Jack, remember? We invited Uncle Jethro over and he said maybe next year.”

“That’s dumb,” Jack said bluntly, his messy mop of thick blonde hair nearly covering his eyes as he stared up at his dad. “We could go visit him.”

“It’s bedtime, Jack,” Tony replied firmly. “As soon as I find the reindeer food I’m gonna read you a story and tuck you into bed so Santa can come.”

“Dad, I’m nine, I know Santa’s not real.”

Tony paused his searching and stared at his son. “Who told you that?”

Jack rolled his eyes and ignored the question. “I know you and Uncle Jethro like each other.”

“What? What’re you talking about? Who said we like each other? Weren’t we just talking about Santa?”

“I saw you guys kiss.”

“Me and Santa?”

“Dad!”

“Are you spying on us now?” Tony asked as he went back to searching. Jack was right, he and Jethro had gotten caught up in the moment and kissed but they’d decided it was a mistake—even if Tony wasn’t so sure that was true.

Jack shrugged unapologetically and bit the leg off one of the gingerbread men he’d decorated.

“Dude, you don’t need all that sugar before bed,” Tony complained good-naturedly.

“I just don’t think you or Uncle Jethro should spend Christmas alone,” Jack said, putting the cookie back on the cooling rack.

“That’s very sweet of you, Jack, but I have you and your Uncle Jethro knows he can come over if he wants.”

Jack huffed out his disapproval dramatically. Adults could be so dense sometimes, even his daddy who was the smartest, bravest adult he knew.

“Ah-ha!” Tony exclaimed, pulling the bag of oatmeal, Christmas sprinkles and glitter out of Jack’s lunchbox. “Found it!”

“Please, Daddy,” Jack whined.

Tony bent over and kissed his son’s forehead before smiling at him and playfully smacking his butt to get the boy moving. “Put your coat and boots on so we can sprinkle this in the front yard.”

“I can do it myself, Dad,” Jack said. “Could I have some hot chocolate while we read the story?”

“What’s the magic word?” Tony briefly wondered when he’d turned into his nannies. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t use that question to remind his kids to say please.

“Please.”

“Alright,” Tony agreed, “you go feed the reindeer and I’ll make some hot chocolate.”

Jack pulled his boots and coat on over his Christmas pajamas and shoved the bag of reindeer food into his pocket. He made sure his dad wasn’t watching him from the living room window then, instead of heading for the front yard to spread the reindeer food, he grabbed his bike from where it was leaned up against the garage and took off towards his Uncle Jethro’s house.

It was a route he’d ridden many times before. He usually went with his dad but his dad was being stubborn and Jack didn’t see any reason he couldn’t make the trip by himself. The new tires his dad and Uncle Jethro had put on his bike make it easy to ride through the snow and slush plus they lived in a safe neighborhood. It really wasn’t a big deal, the boy reasoned.

Jack carefully made his way through the neighborhood, catching snowflakes on his tongue and giggling when they tickled his eyelashes. He made sure to look both ways before crossing streets and stayed alert to his surroundings, just like his dad had taught him. Less than ten minutes after leaving his house, he was knocking on his uncle’s front door.

When his uncle answered the door, the man just stared at him with one of those intimidating looks that made Jack wonder if he was in trouble. “He just got here, Tony,” Jethro finally said making Jack realize he was on the phone.

_“I'm so sorry, Jethro,” Tony said. “I'll be there in a minute. Tell him I'm gonna kick his butt.”_

“Nah, stay put,” Jethro said, “I’ll bring him home.”

_“Are you sure?”_

“Yep, see ya in a minute.” Jethro smiled and snapped his phone shut before Tony could protest. “Your dad said to tell you he's gonna kick your butt,” he told the boy with a playful wink.

Jack had the grace to look ashamed.

“What’re you doin’ here, Kiddo? You should be sleeping. Santa’ll be here soon.”

Jack rolled his eyes as he followed his uncle into the kitchen to grab the keys to the truck. “Not you too. Santa isn’t real, Uncle Jethro.”

“He’s not?” Jethro looked devastated and sounded heartbroken. “Who says?”

“Daddy’s lonely.”

Jethro narrowed his eyes and fixed his gaze on Jack as he shrugged into his favorite, worn Carhartt jacket. “He is?”

“Yeah and nobody should spend Christmas alone.”

“He’s not alone. He’s got you.”

“But you’re alone.”

“Ah, I’ll be okay,” Jethro said. He knelt in front of Jack and tugged the zipper on his jacket a little higher before putting one of his stocking caps on the boy’s head. “Ready?”

“For what?”

“To go home,” Jethro answered. “It’s your bedtime, Kiddo, and your daddy’s worried.”

“But I just got here and I’m fine!”

“Jack, buddy,” Jethro knelt in front of the boy again and held onto his arm, “what’s going on?”

Jack crossed his arms in front of his chest and his expression soured. Adults could be so frustrating! “I just want you and Daddy to stop bein’ dumb and start bein’ happy,” he grumped.

Jethro pulled Jack into his arms and kissed his cheek before lifting him up and heading out the door with him. “Things’ll look better in the morning, Kiddo.” He hated to brush the kid off, and he knew full well that’s what he was doing, but he wasn’t prepared to discuss his complicated relationship with Tony with anyone, let alone a nine year old who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.

The ride back to the DiNozzo house was quiet. Jack didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was angry and aside from keeping his arm wrapped around the child throughout the entire drive, Jethro let him be. After pulling into Tony’s driveway, Jethro tugged Jack out of his side of the truck and carried him up the front steps and into the front door that Tony was holding open.

“You're too big for Uncle Jethro to be carrying you around,” Tony said.

Jack glared at his dad as Jethro stood him in the entryway.

“I should be the one who's upset,” Tony said sternly. “It's dark and snowy and you're out there in your jammies, on your bike riding across the neighborhood. You scared me tonight, Jack. You know better.”

When Jack's glare didn't soften any Tony sent him up to bed with a nod of his head and a wave of his hand. The boy stomped all the way up the stairs and down the hall to his room, not even bothering to remove his coat or boots.

“What happened?” Jethro asked.

“I don't know,” Tony grumbled. “I was looking for reindeer food and he was telling me how lonely you were and the next thing I know he's gone.”

“He told me you were lonely.”

“I guess he saw us kiss,” Tony admitted reluctantly. “There's so much he doesn't understand and I don't know how to explain it to him.”

“Let me talk to him,” Jethro said. He could hear the panic in Tony’s voice and wanted to help if he could.

Tony motioned towards the stairs and stepped out of the way.

Jethro slipped his coat off and hung it over the stair railing then kicked his work boots off, gathering his thoughts as he did so. He hadn’t been prepared to have that particular conversation with the little boy he loved so much that night—or maybe even ever—but it was becoming clear it was needed and raising kids wasn’t about convenience. A big part of it was about meeting them where they were and Jack was clearly ready to have the conversation.

He took the cup of hot chocolate Tony was holding out to him and headed up the stairs to find Jack sitting angrily in his bed with his arms still crossed and the scowl still on his face. Tony snuck up the stairs behind Jethro and stayed out of sight in the hall.

“Still mad at me?” Jethro asked. He put the cup of cocoa on the nightstand and slipped Jack's boots off his feet then got him out of his jacket and tugged the stocking cap off his head. “Jack, if you don't tell me what's bothering you, I can't help you feel better.” He moved Jack to the center of the bed, propped up against the headboard then handed the boy the drink his dad had sent up and scooted up next to him on the twin size bed.

“I heard you and Daddy talking.”

Jethro wrapped his arm around the boy, tugged him closer and pressed a kiss to his head. “What'd we say?” he asked patiently.

“I saw you and Daddy kiss.”

“Yeah?”

“Daddy said he liked it but it was a mistake 'cause of me.”

“And you're worried that it's your fault that your daddy's not happy?” Jethro guessed.

Jack shrugged before taking a cautious sip of his hot cocoa.

“Your dad is happy, Bud. He's very happy and he loves you very much.”

“But he loves you too,” Jack interrupted. “I know he does.”

“I know he does too and I love him but—”

“Then why don't you guys just be boyfriends already?”

“It's complicated, Kiddo.”

“No it's not!” Jack insisted, raising his voice.

Jethro stole a drink of Jack's hot chocolate to give himself a moment to think then passed it back to the kid.

“It's my fault you and Daddy aren't boyfriends and that means I gotta fix it.”

“Jack, I think you misunderstood your dad. It's not your fault that we aren't together and your dad and I will always be friends.”

“But if you love Daddy and he loves you and I love you and you love me, then how come we can't be a family?”

“We are a family,” Jethro said, hugging the boy even tighter. “You’re my favorite person, Dude. I love you.”

“It's not the same, Uncle Jethro,” Jack mumbled pushing against his uncle’s broad chest in an attempt to free himself from the hug. He was too mad to be hugged. “I don't want this.” He handed the cocoa to Jethro then slid down in the bed, angrily crossing his arms in front of his chest again.

“You and I need to make a deal before you go to sleep, Jack,” Jethro said, brushing several strands of hair away from Jack’s forehead.

“Hmm?”

“You can come over to my house whenever you want, as long as your dad says it's okay, but you have to tell us. I know you know the way and I know you're a big boy now but we still need to know where you are, okay? Can you promise me?”

“I promise,” Jack mumbled, “and I'm sorry. I just thought if I asked that Daddy would say no.”

“Well if he says no, then the answer's no but I bet he woulda let you call me.”

“Okay,” Jack agreed. “No more sneak trips to your house.”

“Good boy,” Jethro said, tugging the boy closer and running his fingers through Jack’s hair.

Jack turned to his side, threw his arm across his uncle’s stomach and rested his head against the man’s chest. He was still mad but it was difficult to resist his uncle’s affection.

“I wish I had some easy answers for your questions, Jack,” Jethro said softly.

“The answer _is_  easy,” Jack mumbled. “You guys are just bein’ dumb.”

Jethro frowned at the harsh statement but he had to wonder if he was more upset at being called dumb by a nine year old or upset because the boy was right. “Do you want me to call Daddy up here to read you your story?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to read to you?” Reading _Twas the Night Before Christmas_ to Jack on Christmas Eve was a tradition.

“No. Santa's not real anyways.”

“I think he might surprise you,” Jethro said.

“I don't think he's gonna bring me what I want this year, Uncle Jethro,” Jack mumbled tiredly around a yawn.

“I love you, Jack,” Jethro whispered. “I'll always be here for you. I hope you know that.”

By the time he'd finished his sentence, Jack had dropped off to sleep. The excitement of the night had faded, leaving behind a tired little boy. Jethro sat with him, rubbing his back and stroking his hair until he was sure Jack was asleep then he slipped out from under the boy, covered him up and kissed him good night before stepping into the hall where Tony was waiting for him.

“You hear everything?” Jethro asked.

Tony nodded and handed Jethro a colorful piece of festively decorated construction paper. His son had always been creative. “Look what I found by Santa's plate of cookies. Jack must've put it there when I wasn't looking.”

Jethro opened the card and found a note written to Santa in the little boy's handwriting.

 

_Dear Santa,_

_I don't need presents this year. I only want my daddy and Uncle Jethro to be together so we can all be a happy family._

_Love,_

_Jack_ _  
_

 

“I'm always so careful about letting anyone I date meet him,” Tony said. “You're, obviously, totally different but this?” He pointed at the letter Jethro was holding. “I don't have a clue what to say or do about this.”

“We’re not dating, Tony,” Jethro pointed out as they made their way downstairs.

“But we kissed,” Tony said, “and he saw us and to a nine year old that might as well be the same thing.”

Jethro rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he had a simple solution for the situation Tony was in—for the situation they were both in. “This place is a mess,” he said, changing the topic instead.

“I’ll put some coffee on,” Tony said, once again assessing the state the kitchen was in, “if I can find the pot.” He moved the mixing bowls and bags of flour and sugar out of the way. “Unless you’re in a hurry to get home?” he asked, pausing briefly.

“Coffee sounds good,” Jethro said.

Tony busied himself with preparing the coffee and getting the dishes in the dishwasher, putting leftover ingredients back in the cupboard and packaging up Christmas cookies; anything to avoid the awkward silence that had settled in the room. Jethro simply leaned against the counter, deep in thought as he stared off into space, contemplating the conversation he’d had with Jack.

What if things could be as simple as the little boy seemed to think they were? They had been years earlier when he’d met Shannon at the train station in Stillwater. He’d been so full of hope and felt such promise for endless happiness but his difficult childhood had turned into a painful adulthood that had taught him to guard his heart.

Did he really need to protect himself from Tony though? He’d spent years protecting himself and it had left him alone and lonely and scared to love. Could he let go of that fear and let Tony and Jack in? _Really_ let them in?

“You okay?” Tony asked cautiously.

Jethro’s eyes refocused on Tony who was now standing in front of him and looking worried and something told Jethro it wasn’t his son that Tony was worried about. He accepted the cup of coffee the man was offering him, letting his fingers wrap around Tony’s for a moment longer than necessary, daring to reach out and open himself up to something more; subconsciously seeking that simplicity a younger version of himself had dared to believe in.

Tony stared at their touching fingers, wondering what had gotten into Jethro. When the man took his cup and brought it to his lips for a tentative drink, Tony grabbed his own perfectly doctored cup and leaned up against the counter next to him.

“Why did we decide not to get involved?” Jethro asked quietly—unsurely.

“Neither of us wanted to take the chance of hurting Jack,” Tony answered, remembering the agreement they’d quickly come to after their impromptu kiss. Without even thinking about it he leaned closer to Jethro at the memory of the kiss.

Jethro found himself leaning closer to Tony too. He hesitated briefly before suggesting, “Maybe we’re hurting him more than we’re protecting him.”

Tony brought his coffee to his lips and simply inhaled the familiar aroma, contemplating what Jethro had said. “Is Jack right?” he finally asked. “Are we being dumb?”

“I think we are,” Jethro said with a smile. He read through Jack’s letter to Santa again before holding it up for Tony to see. “What do you say we grant Jack’s Christmas wish?”

“Might get him to believe in Santa for another year,” Tony said hopefully. He smiled softly and leaned up against Jethro.

Jethro wrapped his arm around Tony and held him tightly. “I think he’s onto Santa.” He leaned into Tony and pressed a cautious kiss to his cheek and then a second one with slightly more confidence. He rested a finger against Tony’s chin and gently turned his face towards him. After only a moment’s hesitation he smiled genuinely and gave Tony a real kiss, right on the mouth, relaxing into it when Tony returned the kiss.

“Mmm,” Tony hummed in approval when they pulled apart again. He wrapped his arms around Jethro and the two stood in the kitchen, reveling in the moment. “Wanna play Santa with me?” Tony offered. “I haven’t even started wrapping presents yet.”

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

Jack woke up before the sun, just as he did every Christmas morning. The anger from the previous evening was gone and a smile graced his face as he realized what day it was. He couldn’t wait to go downstairs and see if Santa had come but Daddy had a rule about not going downstairs before he was up and ready too. Tony didn’t want to miss a single moment of the magic that Christmas morning brought.

The little boy hopped out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he half tiptoed, half ran down the hall to the master bedroom. He pushed the door open and was getting ready to announce his arrival when he noticed his daddy wasn’t sleeping alone. There were two forms under the covers.

Jack carefully moved over to the bed, to the opposite side his father slept on, and smiled when he realized who it was that was sharing a bed with his dad. He still wasn't sure if he believed in Santa or not but someone had granted his Christmas wish and he couldn't have been happier.

“Mornin’, bud,” Jethro said, his voice deep and rough with sleep.

“Uncle Jethro,” Jack whispered, grinning from ear to ear.

“Time’s it?” Jethro asked tiredly.

Jack shrugged his shoulders as his uncle lifted him up and laid him in the middle of the bed.

“You’re up before Jethro, Dude,” Tony muttered. “I don’t know if that’s crazy or impressive.”

“Did you hear Santa on the roof last night?” Jethro asked.

“No.”

“I did,” Jethro replied confidently. “I even heard the reindeer come down and eat the reindeer food you made ‘em.”

“But I never put it in the yard.”

“Your dad and I put it out there for you after you went to bed.”

Jack couldn’t help but smile.

“What do ya say we go downstairs and see if Santa was here or if the reindeer just stopped by for some grub,” Tony suggested.

“He was here,” Jack insisted. “He gave me exactly what I asked for!”

Tony winked at Jethro as he pulled his son to his side and kissed his temple. Jethro scooted closer to them and kissed the top of Jack’s head as he wrapped his arm around Tony and held on tightly. Maybe Jack had been the only one wise enough to ask for it, but Santa had given them all exactly what they needed that Christmas.

**End.**


End file.
